There's no Need to feel this Pain
by Traitor of All Traitors
Summary: The Black Zodiac is one of torment and despair. Anyone can be a member of this order so long as they fit the requirements. But what if the ones chosen were given a different path that led away from their fates? What if someone visited each individual and offered a new path for them?
1. The First Born Son's Survival

Creation began on 10-04-09

Creation ended on 11-30-19

Thir13en Ghosts

There's no Need to feel this Pain: The First Born Son's Survival

A/N: Ever since I saw this horror movie, which was a remake of the older film, of which I have never seen, I always had trouble sleeping at night in the dark. The Black Zodiac ghosts were, visually, very disturbing and their separate profiles can spook anybody with highly-active imaginations. One thing that had occurred to me recently was a 'what if' possibility. I'm really gonna enjoy this. More so because of my Brother Correction character. He's such a good character to me because of his drive to ensure that the right thing is done to preserve balance and because he believes that good people deserve second chances.

Profile One: The First Born Son's Survival

_Are you the one called Billy Michaels?_ A voiced asked the little boy obsessed with cowboys.

Billy Michaels looked around his bedroom, full of cowboy posters and toys, and saw a apparition of a tall, dark man sitting on his dresser, holding one of his action figures.

_Please, don't fear me,_ he told the boy. _I mean you no harm. I'm here to warn you of danger._

Setting his toy cowboy gun down, Billy asked the man, "Who are you?"

_I am Brother Correction, here to prevent your premature end. I hope that by telling you of what lies ahead if you stay in your world of Cowboys and Indians, I can save your life._ Brother Correction told him. _I'm always driven by the belief that a person can change fate and have a second chance at life. I've foreseen your future, two days from now, and I don't like what will happen to you unless you stop with your obsession._

"What do you mean? Will… Will I die?" Billy asked him.

_More than die, Billy Michaels: You will become part of a game that will decide the fate of every other child in existence that ever loved to play with their dreams and fantasies. One of your neighbors will challenge you to a duel with a steel-tipped arrow that he will find in his parents' closet, with you using your prized possession as the opposing weapon, your cowboy gun, which will be useless…and the arrow will end you in the head. I shall show you the future that will be if you stay on this road._

Brother Correction used his powers to shroud the boy's room in darkness, showing visions of the future in the form of television to best get the interests of this child, and each scene made Billy's eyes widen: He saw an arrow impale him in the back of his head, ending his life, an apparition of himself in a glass cage, with his cowboy suit and holding a real-looking tomahawk as his weapon of choice, and a sadistic smile on his face as dried blood fell from the hole the arrow made onto his nose and cheeks as he moved along the walls and disappeared and reappeared everywhere, whispering, _"I want to play"_ or _"I don't want to play"_.

"Oh, God," he gasped, unable to get the images out of his head as he looked at Brother Correction. "Is this really to be my fate?"

_Yes, but I believe you can avoid it…because you deserve the right to live out your life, and because the future can change for the better. We all have the power to deny a dark destiny. It's just a matter of how we use that power. Please, Billy Michaels, don't let your passion for the fun and games of make believe be your downfall. Do the right thing, that's all I'm begging of you to do. Do the right thing._

Then, he vanished, leaving the boy alone in his room, and Billy knew what he had to do.

Looking at his toy gun, he took a deep breath and got up to leave his room, find his mother and tell her of his newfound drive.

-x-

Epilogue

"Hey, Billy," went one of his neighbors to him, two days later, "you won't believe what I found in my parents' closet the other day… Why are you dressed like that?"

Billy, wearing regular clothes, free of any cowboy motif, answered, "I've had some time to think about a lot of things, and I've decided that I'm done with Cowboys and Indians. I told my mother and she helped me clean my room out of the stuff. We're sending them to the thrift store later today."

"You're done with being a cowboy? Wow, man, and I thought you would live with that forever. I found a real bow and arrow in my parents' closet and wanted to challenge you to a duel with it." He told Billy.

"No thanks. I don't want to get an arrow stuck up my head." Billy responded, and walked away, leaving his neighbor confused about that last line of words.

And with that, Billy had switched to a new type of fun: Sports. He signed up for baseball at his school to get away from his old life of cowboys, and eventually lived to be a great player of the game.

His mother was immensely proud of him, not just because he was skilled at the game, but because he gave up on the old films and motif of the Old West. And she wasn't the only one that was proud of him.

A/N: I initially wanted to make one story comprised of all the alternate outcomes, but after looking at the in-progress work of mine that needed to be worked on, I decided to break the outcomes into individual chapters for each member of the Black Zodiac. Here's the first one. I apologize for taking so long just to get to. I hope it impresses you until I post the next chapters after separating them all.


	2. The Torso's Insurance

Creation began on 11-30-19

Creation ended on 11-30-19

Thir13en Ghosts

There's no Need to feel this Pain: The Torso's Insurance

Profile Two: The Torso's Insurance

Jimmy thought he could get away from the people he owed money to, but they caught up with him, and he felt that he was going to meet a fate that was worse than dying or a beating.

About to make an example out of Mr. Gambino, the rich man and boxer were stopped by a dark man that showed up in front of Jimmy.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen," he told them, carrying a suitcase, "Mr. Gambino has the money he needs to pay each and every one of you. You see, I've had my eye on him for the last three years and became interested in his abilities as a gambler to such a degree that I just had to acquire him for my own interests. Here you go."

Setting the case down and opening it to reveal a lot of dollar bills, the mob and boxer were impressed, and agreed to let Jimmy go…under the promise that if he ever tried to leave without paying them his dues the next time they made a bet, they would cut him into pieces, wrap him up in cellophane and dump him in the ocean before they left him alone.

"Um, thank you, sir," Jimmy said to the man.

"Don't mention it," he responded. "Don't ever mention it. Come on, I'll buy you a drink."

-x-

Epilogue

Jimmy continued to live a good life. Mainly because after he was saved by the mysterious man, he was given a different lease on existence…after being informed (and shown) what his fate could've been had he not been saved from the people he owed money to. His lease was that of a reclusive millionaire, one of the richest of his time, under one sole condition: As long as he never tried to gamble again, for the rest of his life, he would never need another cent. Although he felt that giving up gambling meant giving up a part of himself, he agreed to stop because he had learned his lesson that night he was saved by him, and to the ends of his life, he died a wealthy man of ninety-four with three sons and two daughters, three grandchildren, two in-laws, a beautiful wife and a curse lifted from his future, and all of it was thanks to a mysterious dark man that wanted to give people second chances.

_Thank you for saving me… Brother Correction,_ he thought, on his deathbed, with all of his body parts still connected to each other.

A/N: How many gamblers get a break like this once in their life?


	3. The Bound Woman's Regret

Creation began on 11-30-19

Creation ended on 11-30-19

Thir13en Ghosts

There's no Need to feel this Pain: The Bound Woman's Regret

Profile Three: The Bound Woman's Regret

Susan LeGrow was enjoying the fruits of her work with being a teenage seductress, ignorant or uncaring of the men she hurt, emotionally, and unaware that if she made more than one wrong step, her life would end. But she didn't care about the consequences, since she, like most of everyone else her family knew, felt that money did more talking than the actual mouth ever could. Her life of privileges allowed her to be this way with anyone she pleased.

_Miss LeGrow, you must stop,_ a voice told her as she got set for the prom. _Open your eyes and listen to the words of those less fortunate than you. Money only buys material things. It can't truly buy you any sort of happiness beyond that._

Looking away from her mirror, Susan saw that someone was on her open window's sill: A dark stranger with an almost-angry look that seemed so normal for his face to express. Try as she might, she couldn't find it in herself to scream for her parents that a black man was near her. But, in a way, she found that he didn't seem like the type of man that enjoyed being seduced.

"What do poor people care?" She asked him.

"Not poor people," he repeated, actually speaking that time. "I said those less fortunate than you: Those from the lower-economic society that must struggle to make ends meat to feed their families and make deadlines. Although they have desires to be wealthy, as well, they know that money won't buy what their hearts really desire, only what their bodies and minds want. And think of the men whose hearts you've broken. Tonight, you plan to break another's heart, and that's something I can't let you do…because I can't allow you to get killed by a man you intentionally dumped to stir jealousy."

"Who are you?" She asked him. "And how do you know so much about me?"

"I am called Brother Correction, and I know all about you because I've foreseen your fate and wish to undo it, by any means necessary that will preserve your existence."

Then, he darkened her room to show her things that would be unless she stopped: The last man whose heart she broke would break her neck, bury in a lot of a football field, and kill the last boy she was with in an attempt to obtain vengeance, unfit with an apology. In addition, she saw a ghastly version of herself, in her prom dress, either walking or being suspended, laughing, with maggots on open wounds on her flesh, and being called the Bound Woman or Bound Girl, along with several other people, all of whom were more dead than she appeared.

"Oh, my God," she cringed, and the visions ceased, returning her to her room with the man.

"Death and manipulation are never a pretty combination in any picture," he told her. "But you can avoid that fate, simply by walking away from your days as a seductress…and starting anew, mending the hearts of the men you hurt. Your future will be promising of a better life: One that you can be prouder of."

-x-

Epilogue

When she had arrived at the prom, she had gathered up all twenty-six men she dated and discarded and apologized to them for breaking their hearts. After realizing her immense regret of her actions shown to her by a powerful man, she realized a very sick…but very true fact: Every man she dated she liked, and couldn't decide one over the rest, so she married all of them when she turned twenty-six herself, which shocked her parents, seeing this as a reverse-harem of sorts. Still, this was what she really wanted, but what she really regretted each day toward her last day was that, in some other future, she was the ghost of her former self, with a broken neck…and a twisted heart. A dead seductress with no future to be proud of, and her greatest regret that she was happy about was not experiencing herself for any other reason than to see what would happen if she stayed on that dark path.

A/N: Sometimes, it's better to avoid a legion of vengeance by tying the knot with everyone that was hurt.


	4. The Withered Lover's Safety

Creation began on 11-30-19

Creation ended on 11-30-19

Thir13en Ghosts

There's no Need to feel this Pain: The Withered Lover's Safety

Profile Four: The Withered Lover's Safety

Jean Kriticos worried for her children and husband's safety as the fire was consuming their home. The firefighters near Arthur wouldn't allow him to go back inside to try and save his wife, believing it to be a futile attempt for him to even try. But, unknown to them, a firefighter had already gone inside to save her.

"Mrs. Kriticos!" He called out to her, braving through burning debris and falling wood chunks as he went up the stairs. "Mrs. Kriticos!"

"Here! I'm stuck!" Jean replied to him, and he found her stuck on the floor by fallen debris trapping her legs in one of the bedrooms.

He took out a fire blanket and told her to cover herself with it as he freed her legs of the debris, and managed to get her out of the house before it collapsed on itself.

-x-

Epilogue

In the hospital, after the fire had consumed their home, Jean was given a clean bill of health, with only a second-degree burn on her left arm that time would heal. When she asked about the firefighter that saved her, the others were completely confused, as when they arrived, they only brought eighteen firefighters, and all of them were outside trying to kill the fire. She described him as being a tall, dark and mysterious person that seemed to have a drive to do what he felt was right, and the firefighters had given a very unusual answer: The firefighter that rescued her was, in fact, the firefighter that had died four years ago in a burning building to save seven children from dying…or at least his spirit had come back to do the right thing, which they confessed that, every so often, whenever it seemed like someone was going to die, he would always show up and turn it around.

Even though they were financially insecure for the time being, the family was able to endure because, while they did lose some of their possessions, they still had each other, thanks to the mysterious firefighter that saved Jean.


	5. The Torn's Prince's Victory

Creation began on 11-30-19

Creation ended on 11-30-19

Thir13en Ghosts

There's no Need to feel this Pain: The Torn Prince's Victory

Profile Five: The Torn Prince's Victory

Brother Correction saw that this change of fate would be much easier than the other ones, possibly one of the only easy ones when it came to the Black Zodiac. Royce Clayton, the boy that would become the Torn Prince in another future was about to get into his car to try and prove his superiority over the greaser, but Correction intervened and stopped time in front of Royce. He wasn't going to let a dark chapter in history repeat itself.

"What's going on?" Royce asked, seeing everything was not moving, like picture was taken and everyone was as still as stone.

"At ease, Mr. Clayton," Correction told him, appearing next to him on the hood of his car. "I stopped time to speak with you, to save you from your dark fate…and, hopefully, to cease your need to feed your ego."

Instead of trying to prove himself, Royce sat there in the car and listened to this dark man.

"Don't drive in the race against Johnny," he told him. "The Chinese used to say that greatest victory is the battle that isn't fought. You don't have to prove anything to anyone. Aren't people from several colleges trying to obtain you with internships or scholarships and get you away from what is perceived as a miserable life in your neighborhood? I've seen you play at the ball field and you deserve the skills that make a good player of the game. But there is no such thing as superiority. People may think it so, it is only an illusion created by those that believe that they have power over those that do not. Look at me: I have the ability to try and grant people second chances at life, but I won't always be this way. I will continue to exist but not as this person in front of you. In due time, I will be reincarnated as a new face meant to preserve balance. Royce, you don't have to prove anything to anybody. If you go ahead with the race, you will die because your break lines have been cut. You will flip over several times before igniting into flames and ending up a member of the Black Zodiac."

"What is the Black Zodiac?"

"It is a dark zodiac comprised of twelve ghosts, each who died to fill in a slot that represents their ghastly appearance. Your place in the zodiac is to be the ghost known as the Torn Prince, a brother to the Angry Princess and cousin to the other ten apparitions. If you don't believe me, I can show you like I've shown the others that were to be the First Born Son, Bound Woman and so on."

"Okay, show me what's in my future if I stay on this path."

And so he revealed it all to him: Royce Clayton stood before…himself, or what remained of himself, with half his upper body torn away to reveal a grotesque layer of muscle and blood near scorched flesh, and he was carrying his baseball bat as his weapon of choice, using it to harm a man in the future with disastrous results. It disturbed Royce, almost made him snap from witnessing so much horror, until Brother Correction stopped and presented him with a future that could be: It was filled with trophies, autographs, baseball cards with his face on them, and a family comprised of a wife and twin sons.

_Could all of that be mine? _He thought._ Can it really be mine?_

_It can be if you really want it,_ Correction told him, the images fading away to return them both to the present. _Just do the right thing…and remember this: The greatest victory is the battle that isn't fought._

Returned to the point where he was about to get in his greaser car, Royce realized that time had been put back into motion and people were waiting for him to start with the drag race with his competition.

_The greatest victory is the battle that isn't fought,_ he thought calmly, and picked up his bat and got out of the car. "Look, y'all…I'm sorry, but I can't go through with this. Call me a loser if that eases you, but I just realized that I can't go down this path I was going to go down. I got a future, just like you do, and it's about time I pursued it and got away from the slums of my neighborhood before it ruins me."

-x-

Epilogue

Twenty years passed and Royce Clayton, discovered by Brother Correction, was making a great name for himself properly. Taking a college scholarship, he was able to get out of his neighborhood and pursue his baseball talents without restrictions, eventually becoming the next great player after Babe Ruth, and was engaged to his college sweetheart, Isabella Jane, who was his equal in the same game that he loved.

Correction never thought that this would be difficult from the start, as he was familiar with people with issues and complexes that could be treated with time. Marking off the man from his list of lives to alter for the better, he gazed into the future and saw that the young man that would become the Torn Prince was no more. An aged star had replaced the tormented soul.

"Mission accomplished," he sighed, and disappeared to alter his next subject, and this one would be in need of a great gift that couldn't be bought…but given.


	6. The Angry Princess' Hope

Creation began on 11-30-19

Creation ended on 11-30-19

Thir13en Ghosts

There's no Need to feel this Pain: The Angry Princess' Hope

Profile Six: The Angry Princess' Hope

Dana Newman laid in a deep depression in the hospital bed after trying to perform cosmetic surgery on her face, which resulted in the loss of perception in one of her eyes. For years, she had tried to make herself beautiful to please many people, but those she dated always saw something that made her self-esteem drop lower than low.

_I'm sorry,_ she thought, wishing that she was truly beautiful.

_But you are beautiful, Ms. Newman,_ she heard a voice from somewhere. _You're as beautiful as the day you were born. Your natural beauty rivals that of an ethereal goddess. There was never nothing wrong with your appearance. It was the men you were dating that were flawed. They wouldn't know true beauty if it came and slapped them right in their faces._

Rising up, she saw a young man sitting down in a chair in front of her bed, his dark eyes lost in her gaze, as though he were the voice that was speaking his mind.

"Miss Newman, I'm here to help get you the kinda life you longed for," he told her. "I've spoken with the doctors and they told me that they can restore your eye and the rest of you back to your original self. You see, I have a friend that is interested in seeing you and wishes to give you a better life that will make it so that you don't have to worry about anything else for the rest of your existence. And, just so that you know, you're not supposed to croak until you reach your one-hundred and seventeenth birthday, of which would mark you as one of the oldest of people to live over a century."

Dana, for the umpteenth time in her years of trying to be beautiful, was completely confused by this man's words: If she was truly beautiful, and meant to live that long, then why did everyone else say differently to her each time?

"Have you ever considered joining a modeling agency that hires people that believe in natural beauty?" He asked her. "There's one called _The Passion Dragon_. Despite its title, it's made quite a presence in the world. Five-thousand women, in the course of its seventeen years, have become well-known celebrities whose natural looks bring cosmetics and plastic surgeries to shame. You can be a part of that. Not just that, but in time, you will have obtained what it is your heart truly desires. Please, think about it for a while. Take a few days to think it over, because, for what it's all worth, I believe your beauty would put many that think they have the ultimate beauty to shame because they didn't deserve it like how you deserve yours."

He then left her to her solitude and recovery, hoping she'd make the right choice because he didn't wish to see her suffer, anymore.

Dana lied there on the bed, thinking about it long and hard. That the young man seemed persuasive to the point where he didn't seem like an ordinary man…but was something else entirely, something…mysterious and unbound to the rules of mortal existence.

…_But why would he really want to help me?_ She thought, but her desires for her beauty were much-stronger than her curiosity. _I'm…going to think about the choice and give the answer._

-x-

Epilogue

Brother Correction looked in the newspaper and saw an article that he knew he'd see: Dana had recovered from her self-inflicted surgery and entered an operation that went successful in restoring her natural beauty, after which she took a job position at _The Passion Dragon_ modeling agency and became their number ten-ranked special model.

_I knew she'd make the right choice,_ he thought, reading the article further, and seeing that one of the shows introducing the models was tonight, where they'd be showcasing their newest fashion designs from silk dresses to new sandals. _I had best go see this myself._

And he did, seeing the former Angry Princess, in all of her proper beauty and glory, walking down the aisle showcasing the agency's newest brand of sandals and a bluish-yellow sun dress. He saw further into her new future and knew that everything he said would be right for her would be guaranteed.

_She's as beautiful now as she'll be on her final day of life…far in the future. Now, off to go further into the past and retrieve the souls of the wronged and right them._


	7. The Pilgrimess' Confession

Creation began on 11-30-19

Creation ended on 11-30-19

Thir13en Ghosts

There's no Need to feel this Pain: The Pilgrimess' Confession

Profile Seven: The Pilgrimess' Confession

The only part of her existence that was horrible so far was being trapped in a burning farmhouse barn. Isabella Smith knew she wasn't a witch, knew she didn't have dark and dangerous powers, but the townsfolk refused to believe her, simply because she was an outsider that moved into their town in order to start a new life for herself. The burning debris fell on her, but she managed to crawl out, completely unharmed.

"Witch!" Some of the folk called her, and tackled her to the ground, tying her arms up.

"Wait!" Someone away from the crowd of villagers yelled. "Calm yourselves! Miss Smith isn't the witch you seek. There was never a witch!"

They all looked away from Isabella and saw a man, wearing a heavy, blood-red cloak and having pale-gray skin, dragging beside him a strange animal that none of them had ever seen before. It looked like a goat, but muscled, rotted, had fangs instead of regular goat teeth, and possessed bat-like wings on its sides. But what really frightened the people, Isabella included, were its eyes, the darkest of any animal they had ever seen before or ever would see.

"It was this animal," the mysterious man told them, removing the hood of his cloak off to reveal his face to them, "which isn't an animal at all…but a demon, one that was born from your hatred…your hidden, carnal desires to remove the unfamiliar from your community. It was this demon that killed your livestock, made your preacher ill and drove you to accuse Ms. Smith of foul play. Look at the creature that is nothing more than your reflection in a demonic mirror."

His face, as gray as his hands, made them curious as to what had happened to him. But Isabella took one look at him and gasped.

"Benjamin Curtis?" She asked him. "Is that really you?"

The man, Benjamin as she called him, nodded his response.

"I've been looking for you for the last three years, Isabella," he told her. "I'm sorry for the cruelty that befell you when your family was killed by the soldiers that broke into your home. I never meant for any of them to be harmed."

He dragged the demonic creature over and laid it out in front of the townsfolk. Then, looking over at the preacher, he told him to come over and say how he felt when around it, that if he felt sick and like he was tired, then it would be proof that his illness came from the beast.

"I feel like I'm dying," the preacher told him, startling the people.

"It goes after the authority figures in towns. They are the first to be assaulted by their dark powers. The illness you have is a spell that has no incantation, no verses, and the only antidote is for the wrongfully-accused to slay the demon." He told the preacher, and held out an axe in front of the woman he searched for. "Isabella, to clear your name, you must kill the beast."

Isabella took the axe from him and raised it up, aimed at the demonic animal's head, and brought it down in one swift chop.

"AAAAAAURGH!" The demon shrieked, having its head chopped in half, and suddenly the preacher felt better than he did before he caught the illness.

The townsfolk looked at Isabella with different eyes now, seeing her as a different woman instead of as an outsider. She wasn't truly a witch…but a new face that they just didn't want to accept because she wasn't one of them. They felt a pain in their hearts that it was their fault that the demon had shown up, that they that killed their own livestock, and that they nearly sent this woman to a death that they would've been responsible for, as well. Then, Isabella, from the effort needed to hold the axe and kill the beast, passed out and fell to the ground.

-x-

Epilogue

"Thank you for saving my life, Benjamin," Isabella praised the man, having regained consciousness the day after the night she killed the demon that had framed her of the crimes she'd been exonerated for, and had invited him over to her tiny cottage for tea.

"Actually, it is I that should be thanking you," he responded. "I had bumped into a strange man that told me to help you a few weeks ago, told me that you had a right to continue living, despite the hardships you had to endure around here. He also said something about a fate that had to be undone. I don't think that guy was ordinary around the town I met him in. He was dark, like the parched soil used for graveyards. Have you met someone like that before?"

"No," she told him, refilling his cup with tea. "But I have dreamt about a man like that before. He called himself a relative of those that live, but he didn't look like he was a relative of anybody's family. And he had power…like he wasn't a man…but looked like a man. He also…seemed like he had an important job to accomplish, and I was one of the people on his list of things to take care of. But I don't know what any of that means right now."

"Maybe we're not supposed to know…or at least not while we're still alive and have the rest of our lives to look forward to. My father used to tell me that, _"When your judgment day approaches after your final breath of life, all the questions you ever had in your existence shall be answered"_. So…we're really not meant to know until our judgment days truly come. For now, we just go on with our lives. We live and be content while we can, trying to find happiness and such in the world."

Isabella nodded in agreement, and poured him another cup of tea, basking in the light of his company. She really wasn't supposed to know anything about the strange man that had managed to save her from an undeserving fate, whatever it was, and knew that when she did die, she would have the answers to her questions of why. And until that final day of her life came, she would never know that there was someone out there, one whom knew of her previous fate, and was happy that the role she would've played out, hundreds of years in the future, wouldn't involve her dying with hands and head tied in stocks, earning her the title 'The Pilgrimess', who was sentenced to death for witchcraft, which she was wrongfully accused of performing to the town she came to. No, that future…was now just a memory that would be forgotten to the sands of time, lost in the abyss.

Now that Ms. Smith had been saved, Brother Correction had journeyed back into the future to prevent the next two deaths, and they would be one of the more-troubling tasks of his mission.

_But no matter how long or hard, I won't let them suffer the way they would've without a caring hand, _he thought, looking at the two names that were next on his list: Margaret and Harold Shelburne, who had to be saved from their predestined fates.

A/N: If anyone saw the Ghost File pertaining to the Pilgrimess, then you know that Cyrus wasn't sure if Isabella Smith, the Pilgrimess, was a witch or not. In this case, Isabella wasn't a witch.


End file.
